


In the Shadows Love Will Grow

by mitslits



Series: Prompts [22]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could you do a prompt where Harry and Eggsy are in a relationship secret from the other Knights (as relationships between agents are against their contracts), and everything is super soft and quiet in stolen kisses and loving murmurs behind fitting room doors until Harry becomes Arthur and his first act is to make Eggsy his Guinevere/Excaliber/Etc to get around the rules and kiss him silly in front of the whole table of Knights present for his induction</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Shadows Love Will Grow

**Author's Note:**

> If I worked on this fic for a hundred years I couldn't have done this prompt justice. It's pure poetry.

Harry clears his throat, fingers splayed out on the table as he stands with his back straight, chin tilted up so he can survey all of his agents at once. “I’ve gathered you here to make an announcement. I regret to inform you that we’ve lost Agent Galahad.” 

-

The only sounds are the soft release of breath, the whisper of fabric as it’s whisked out of the way, the rushing of the blood in their ears. Darkness closes around them, wrapping them up in its embrace. The closet is small and cramped. There’s a doorknob pressing into the small of Harry’s back. He has to find Eggsy by touch since there’s no hope of seeing him. None of that matters. 

_I’m glad you’re safe_ says the hand curled into the lapel of his jacket, the hard line of Eggsy’s body pressed up against him as if he’s glued himself there. 

His _I’ll always come home to you_ is promised through a chaste kiss, one that won’t leave Eggsy stumbling out of the closet with kiss-swollen lips, one that won’t lead to wandering hands and necks marked with bites. Even if that’s what he desperately wants. 

-

Harry throws a hand up to dispel the shocked murmurs and looks of concern that are already shuttering down over all the agent’s faces. “Or rather, we’ve lost the occupation of the position. The man behind it is still very much alive.” 

“Course I am. Ain’t got any plans to die before you, old man,” Eggsy says cheekily from the doorway he’s suddenly appeared in. He looks, perhaps, a little worse for wear, bruises still marking a pretty pattern up and down the left side of his body but there’s no question that he’s still the bright-eyed agent they’re all used to. 

-

They haven’t said _I love you_ a thousand times. They haven’t said it with the brush of fingers as one of them hands over a file. They haven’t said it with the looks they’ve given each other across crowded rooms. They haven’t said it with the way Eggsy presses his hand to the window of the Kingsman jet as it carries him to Botswana or Paris or wherever he’s needed next and the way Harry presses his hand to the window of his office in return. 

They can never say it. But showing it is better anyways. 

-

Only Eggsy, the agents think as he saunters into the room. Only Eggsy could call Arthur an old man and not only get away with it, but get a fond smile for his troubles. 

“Gentlemen,” Harry says as Eggsy sidles up to stand next to him. “I’m afraid our medical team has judged Galahad unfit to return to the strenuous life of a Kingsman agent.” 

For some reason, former Agent Galahad is grinning.

-

“It ain’t fair.” 

_I know._

“I love you.” 

_Someone could hear._

“Don’t care.”

_Don’t throw Kingsman away._

“I did for JB. I’ll do it for you too.” 

_I won’t let you make the same mistake twice._

-

“I expect you all to have proposals ready by 9:30 tomorrow morning. Given the rather unusual circumstances I think we’ll forego the traditional toast,” Harry says. “Just one more thing before you’re dismissed. As many of you know there are some positions that aren’t required to be filled, but are still available to agents who have earned them. One such place is Excalibur, my right hand. Thankfully, the position does not require as much field work as that of a regular agent and I have been assured our Galahad is more than fit for the task.” 

Eggsy’s grin grows even wider as he turns to face the agents, shooting a quick wink at Roxy who gives him a small smile in return. 

“May I present to you your new Excalibur.” 

-

Harry can’t. His boy is in there, stretched out on an operating table with buckshot in his gut and a condition of critical, hanging onto life through will alone and Harry just _can’t_.  

Can’t get up. Can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Can’t do what has to be done, because Eggsy is in there and he’s out here. 

He grits his teeth and his hands curl into fists, nails leaving angry red half-moons in his palm. When, not if, never if, _when_ Eggsy gets out of that bloody hospital bed Harry is saying he loves him. Not just whispers in darkened corners, not just glances cast from afar, no, he’s going to make it clear to anyone who cares to look at the two of them. 

Protocol be damned. 

-

There’s a soft smattering of applause as Eggsy receives his new official titles leaving his old one (and the old rules) behind. 

“The final order of business,” Harry says as soon as it shows signs of fading out, “is to personally welcome my new Excalibur.” He turns to Eggsy, cups his chin in his hand, wraps his arm around his back to pull him closer, utterly ignores the sounds of surprise coming from the rest of the gathered agents. “So, my dear Excalibur, welcome.” 

And he proceeds to give him the warmest welcome in the history of Kingsman.


End file.
